One Man's Family. Brenda Harlen

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      His hesitant response was immediately rewarded with a warm smile, and he felt a quick rush of heat through his veins.

      She really wasn’t his type. But there was something about her that called to him on a primal level—or maybe it was just that Darlene and Aster’s teasing remarks in the diner had reminded him that it had been a very long time since he’d been with a woman.

      “I was afraid you wouldn’t get here before I had to leave for work,” the woman said.

      Her voice was as soft and seductive as her smile, and he almost didn’t hear the words he was so caught up in the enjoyment of the sounds rolling off of her tongue. Then he realized she was waiting for him to say something, and he forced his brain to wrestle control away from his suddenly overactive hormones to respond to her statement.

      “Do we have an appointment?” he asked, starting to question his earlier conviction that they did not. Maybe Caroline had booked it after he’d called yesterday afternoon to tell her that he’d be in the office this morning.

      “No,” she admitted. “But I was hoping you could squeeze me in, anyway.”

      He glanced at his watch, as if he were considering the request. But the truth was, he was intrigued enough by the woman to want to listen to whatever she had to say. Especially if she continued to speak in that smoothly melodic tone that made him think of steamy nights and steamier sex.

      Whoa. He immediately reined in the shockingly un-professional thought, surprised—and a little ashamed—at the purely visceral reaction he was having to this woman. It was Darlene’s fault, he rationalized again. He wouldn’t be having such inappropriate ideas if she hadn’t started him thinking about how long it had been since he’d had a woman in his bed.

      “Why don’t you come in?” he offered, inserting his key into the lock.

      She waited until he’d punched in the code to disarm the security system before she followed him through the door. He flipped on lights as he made his way toward his office at the end of the hall, conscious of her presence behind him, wondering what had brought her here so early in the morning.

      Did she want him to check up on a spouse whom she suspected was unfaithful? He hadn’t seen a ring on her finger, but he knew that wasn’t conclusive evidence of anything. And while securing evidence of infidelity wasn’t one of his favorite assignments, it was, regrettably, a regular one. Still, he had to wonder at the stupidity of a man who could have a woman like this one in his bed and still look elsewhere for pleasure. Of course, it wasn’t his place to speculate or judge, only to do the job he was hired to do.

      He settled in behind his desk and pushed the stack of unopened mail aside.

      “I’d offer you coffee, but this—” he held up his foam cup “—is all I’ve got until my secretary gets in. Caroline’s very proprietary about the coffeepot.”

      She lowered herself onto the edge of one of the visitor chairs facing his desk and folded her hands in her lap. “I’m fine, thanks.”

      Scott took a long sip from his cup, hoping the infusion of caffeine would jump-start his brain and help keep it one step ahead of his hormones. “Why did you want to see me?”

      “I need you to get my brother out of prison.”

      The unexpected statement jolted him even more than her presence, followed quickly by a pang of disappointment.

      “I’m sorry, Miss—”

      “Juarez,” she said. “Alicia Juarez.”

      He paused, wondering why the name sounded vaguely familiar even though he was certain he’d never met this woman before. He had no doubt that he would have remembered.

      “Yes, well, Miss Juarez, you’re obviously at the wrong place. If you’re looking for a bail bondsman—”

      “I’m not,” she insisted. “I need you.”

      He wanted to smile. Unfortunately, as much as he enjoyed hearing those words come from her lush lips, he was sure she didn’t mean them the way he wanted her to mean them.

      She huffed out an exasperated breath when he didn’t respond to her announcement. “I thought Mr. Hall was going to talk to you about this.”

      Mr. Hall—now that name was definitely familiar. “Jordan sent you here?”

      “He recommended you to me—” and it was clear from her tone now that she was wondering why “—and promised he would give you the background on Joe’s case.”

      “I apologize for not making the connection sooner,” he said, as the scattered pieces finally clicked into place in his mind. “I only talked to Jordan last night and while he did mention you would be contacting me, I didn’t expect it would be first thing this morning before I’ve even had my first cup of coffee.”

      “I did intend to make an appointment,” she told him. “But when I called yesterday, your secretary said you’d been out of the office and I should call back today. I thought, instead, I’d try to catch you in person on my way to work this morning.”

      “And you did.”

      She nodded. “Did Mr. Hall tell you about my brother?”

      “Joe Juarez,” he said. “Convicted of stealing an engine prototype and its design plans from the racing team he worked for and sentenced to five years in prison.”

      “He was set up.”

      “Whether he was or wasn’t…” Scott said—and he had his doubts “…what do you think I can do?”

      “Prove his innocence,” she responded immediately.

      “The police already investigated the case, your brother had a trial, and the jury convicted on the evidence presented.”

      “But he didn’t do it,” she insisted.

      “I appreciate your loyalty—”

      “It’s more than loyalty,” she interrupted. “It’s the truth. I know my brother. He simply isn’t capable of doing something like this. And even if he was, he wouldn’t do anything that would even risk taking him away from his kids.”

      Scott couldn’t deny that she was convinced of the fact. Unfortunately, his experience in law enforcement suggested an entirely different scenario: if Joe Juarez was in prison, that was most likely where he deserved to be.

      “You don’t believe me,” she said softly.

      “It’s not my job to believe or disbelieve,” he told her.

      “How can you do your job if you don’t believe in your client?”

      “Actually, I don’t do a lot of investigating anymore. Most of what I do is surveillance.”

      “Oh.” She frowned. “But Mr. Hall said that you were the best person for the job.”

      Scott bit back a sigh as he realized that СКАЧАТЬ